I love to listen to audiobooks while I work in the garden, take a walk, or cook a meal. Recently, I borrowed two memoirs from my public library and was struck by the contrast. Both were written by famous people and narrated by themselves. I was curious enough about each of them to listen to their stories.
The first was Spare, by Prince Harry (Random House), mostly because it popped up on my screen. Okay, I thought, his perspective on growing up in the shadow of Princess Diana’s death should be be interesting. His life has been very different from (or, in Brit: to) mine.
Being in the public spotlight does not qualify a person to write a compelling memoir, nor does belonging to a royal family confer the ability to narrate with clarity and emotion. Spare fails on both counts. The charm of Harry’s accent lasted about five minutes, long enough for the emotional shallowness—a combination of the dry text and the manner in which it was read aloud—and lack of awareness of his elite white privilege to wear thin. Since I know from my own experience what it’s like to lose a parent unexpectedly, I hoped I’d be able to connect with Harry’s loss. I found his denial of Diana’s death understandable as a child. The problem was that Harry, the adult looking back, seemed to not have gained any insight or grown beyond denial as a childish survival strategy. I heard no understanding of how much he’d matured through adversity, the pain he’d walked through. No connection between that loss and the subsequent estrangements from other members of his family or the mental health issues with which he struggled later in life. But there was lots about the privileged life where everything was provided without him having to work for it and which he accepted without question.
I finally gave up, so I never got to hear about his military service or his courtship with Meghan Markle and how they made a life for themselves apart from his royal relatives. I wish them well, but I found little in this audiobook memoir to attract and hold my interest in who Harry is as a person.
In contrast, Lovely One, A Memoir, by Ketanji Brown Jackson (Random House) was a joy from start to finish. Jackson is the newest member of the US Supreme Court and the first Black woman to be
confirmed to that post. As a student, she excelled in public speaking and debate, tackling challenging topics with determination and extraordinary eloquence. Her facility with communicating complex ideas shines through her narrative, as does her love for her family, her capacity for enduring friendship, her passion for justice, and her unwavering courage. Whether she is talking about the African origin of her name, the environment of racism and misogyny prevalent in here field even today, her and her husband’s struggles to maintain separate careers while raising two daughters, one of whom is autistic, she speaks with unusual clarity and persuasiveness. I loved every minute of her story. In another life, I want to be her best friend.
Highly recommended.
